


How He Looks

by its_mike_kapufty



Series: Tumblr Ficlets [26]
Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, M/M, adoration, supportive rhett
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:06:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29550429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/its_mike_kapufty/pseuds/its_mike_kapufty
Summary: Link Neal shouldneverbe insecure about his appearance. Rhett will always be there to remind him as much.
Relationships: Rhett McLaughlin/Link Neal
Series: Tumblr Ficlets [26]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2170695
Kudos: 17





	How He Looks

When he returned to the waiting room of the salon, he’d been greeted with a patient gaze and large hands dusting the stray hairs from his plaid shoulders. The trickle of the fountain, verdant pots spilling over, and warm overhead lights provided a memorable backdrop for the reveal, yet none of it would stick quite as clearly as the fond smile that rose and the reassuring words that tumbled out and burned. **  
**

_“Look at you! Just… amazing.”_

When he strode into the office and acted like nothing was different, it hadn’t gone under the radar. Standing up and closing in and a down-turned smile as green-grays—neon in the blinding sun—flickered over his face. Shifting from foot to foot to offset the placid and offering comical flutters of lashes that begged a reception for his translucent frames.

_“Good choice. I really like ‘em.”_

When he thumbed through the album of photos on his phone’s too-small screen and zoomed in to inspect his own filthy muscles and soiled headband, he hadn’t been alone. There’d been another—the same as ever over his shoulder, watching and quiet and pensive. Evidence of mornings spent spilling sweat were served up for verdict along with the chance for a thinly veiled insult or shot from jealousy. Instead,

_“You’ve made so much progress. I’m proud of you.”_

When he took a deep breath after break and the first pepper streaks had claimed his youth, it hadn’t been a shock. Texts and a phone call brimming with _are you sures_ had paved the path hand-in-hand with daily updates and selfies of progression. The ripple of age had landed and spread out from scalp and the too-white lights of their company sapped years in his own eyes—but not in the other’s.

_“Incredible, really. Gosh.”_

And when he hung his own face in his hands, tender lips pouting heavy with sores that ached as they always did when they returned and robbed confidence, he’d been there. He’d collected him by the shoulders and trailed ginger fingertips along his jaw to stroke the stubble and zip their sights together. The same low-lidded adoration as thumbs rounded to his wounds and feathered touches over the thick medicine to trace his snapped cupid’s bow. A murder of crow’s feet. A knowing smile. A missed plunge for more, for the first time—if only there had been no symptoms.

_“You always look stunning, Link. Don’t ever think otherwise.”_


End file.
